Saint Mary's beacon. [volume] (Leonard Town, Md.) 1867-1983, 1887-04-28

ground and struck the. iron -boun,
oaken plauks three blows with all th
force Of her arm. This seemed {,
have produced the desired effect, 70
very soon the door vas PARTIAL,
opened, and a voice, hoarse ard ful
of wrathful menace, exclaimed =
who are you that dare to disturb
peaceable people at this late hour ?
Il sm an unhappy woman" wa
the sad and tremulous answer.
What the devil do you want P
asked the harsh voice.
IL want to come in and see my hus
band" was the beseeching reply.
"Who is your husband ?" inquired
the other in the same ungraciou'
tone.
Major Ryan" she responded
"For Gods sake let me see him"
Il do not know any such man.
said the cruel voice.
oh do not say SC" she implored
because have seen him enter this
door every night during the past
week"
at is false" cried the voice in
more gutteral aud angry accents than
ever-"It is false, and if you do not
leave here instantly, I will set the
dogs on you. Here, Tiger"
An omlnous and savage growl was
heard from within, and a great hairy
head PrOtruded itself through the
half-opened door. The wretched wo-
man retreated in alarm, and the shut
ter was slammed to and again bolted.
She stopped, however, at her former
station by the lamp-post, and yielded
to another convulsion of grief more
awful to behold than the first. In
deed, she was so overpowered by her
despairing thoughts that she did not
notice the advance of a man up the
street until he paused within three
feet of where she stood, and addressed
her in tones Of politeness, not unmix-
ed with gentle commiseration.
"You appear to be in distress"
said the stranger, "can do anything
for you?"
She started suddenly, and endeav-
ored to scan his countenance, but the
gloom was too intense, and the light
OF the lamp too faint to allow any sat-
examination. However, as
the voice was not only kind, but very
she answered in accents
the most mournful-"Oh sir, l am
beyond human endurance !;
and yet, no one can aid me"
You should not give way to such
a desponding idea," he urged. in a
still more compassionate manner "we
can always assist one another with
our advice and sympathy, if nothing
more. Tell me, what is the subject
of your grief?"
She reflected a moment, and the
thought occurred to her that perhaps,
ii she revealed the true cause Of her
sorrow, the other might by some
means procure her admittAnce into
the house from which she had lately
been driven away, and this decided
her to make the disclosure.
1T will doubtless appear unseemly,"
she began, "to tell stranger such
private matters, as it certainly does
look immodest for q solitary woman
10 be in the streets after midnight.
In truth, | am nearly maddenCd with
of the past and appreh.n-
sions for the future. am married,
and the mother OF three dear little
living children, aad one is no more.
Myself and husband each inherited
much wealth, and for years enjoyed
all the happiness which riches aud
affection can confer, until within the
last few weeks, when he contracted an
and mysterious passion
for the gaming table, and his own
| roperty-fsrms, houses, lots, slaves,
money, everything-melted away like
snow beneath a warm sun. Then he
persuaded me that be had reformed,
and under the pretext of an intention
to remove into another state. induced,
me 10 sell out, and turn all | owned
from my poor father into cash, and
that has been following the rest, until
tonight, when he has taken our only
means into yonder he'll,
where it will all be swallowed up be,
fore morning, unless | can gain ad-
mission, and prevent it." As she said
this, she pointed at the old frame
house.
What is the name of Jour hus-
baudf inquired the stranger.
Major Ryan, she answered; "dC
you know him?''